


Slow Hands

by PrittlePrince



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Student/Teacher, M/M, Semi-Public Sex, Student/TA
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-18
Updated: 2019-09-18
Packaged: 2020-10-21 06:56:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20689367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrittlePrince/pseuds/PrittlePrince
Summary: Straight-A student Johnny is attending a supplementary history of politics and government course to prepare for his first year of law school when he becomes enamoured with his teaching assistant, Lee Taeyong.After a spectacular rejection, Johnny proves that he's more capable than he appears. Taeyong learns that anything worth something is worth careful cultivation but you can't be expected to be patient forever.





	Slow Hands

**Author's Note:**

  * For [komorebi4223](https://archiveofourown.org/users/komorebi4223/gifts).

> Eve is the first person who really helped me learn who I was in this fandom. They are a true friend to me and continuously supportive. I feel incredibly lucky to have stumbled upon their fic fest so early on in my NCT writing adventures, and I feel lucky to be writing for this fest!
> 
> The prompt I recieved is from Komorebi and it is: "Character A is Character B’s college/university professor. They have to hide their frequent sexual relations from B’s classmates/friends and the rest of the faculty. (Any ship is fine, and it would be a bonus if it included public sex/character B concealed while doing things to Character A.)".
> 
> I hope I satisfied most of the points of this prompt. I am personally a wee bit uncomfortable with full teacher/student relationships but am a little more comfortable exploring the idea of a student/TA relationship since TAs are students but they are definitely in a bit more of a position of power. Its a little saucy haha!
> 
> I hope you enjoy this filthy smut and that you'll share your support and thoughts through comments, kudos, CC, etc... 
> 
> twt  
CC

Johnny is rocked by the hurt on Taeyong’s face, the absolute disbelief. 

“You don’t even want to _be_ here,” Taeyong accuses, taking a subtle step backwards to put some space between them. Johnny has just been spectacularly rejected.

And he’s mortified, of course, because not only is the object of his affection literally putting physical distance between them, but he’s _right_, and Johnny’s ashamed to realize he doesn’t know Taeyong as well as he thought he did. That maybe he doesn’t deserve to date him.

Twice a week he gets to see that beautiful face. Poorly lit by old fluorescent lights in an outdated college on the outskirts of the campus. Packed in a too-small, used-to-be-a-dorm study room with seven of johnny’s classmates. Johnny’s one of three hundred plus in his POLI-1103Y class and Taeyong is one of numerous teaching assistants supporting their professor. Johnny selected this course as part of his undergraduate program to better prepare him to apply to law school in the summer but he hasn’t been taking it seriously, not really.

He’s in his fourth and final year of his degree and having nearly all of his credits behind him has made him lazy and so he parties too hard, shows up late to his classes if he shows up at all, and skips others altogether. He’s smart enough to follow the assignments online for several classes and occasionally show up for a lecture or to turn his work in. He keeps his grades high without much trouble.

He only shows up to the group sessions for his Intro to Government and Politics class so he can stare at Taeyong from across the table. Even after weeks, he doesn’t remember the names of his classmates, often not really paying attention during their one and a half hour discussions.

Johnny has watched him for so long. How he leafs through essays with long, heavily-jewelled fingers. How he pushes his glasses up his nose and they sparkle gold in barest amount of sun that sometimes filters in from the basement-style windows near the ceiling of the room. How he always challenges Johnny, pushes him to work harder, to pay attention, and Johnny always plays along because he likes to see Taeyong’s triumphant smile.

It’s painful to see that face change so much, to see the disappointment on Taeyong’s face as he calls Johnny on his bullshit. Taeyong is gorgeous and funny with a soft, plump lower lip that makes Johnny want to run his teeth over it, but he’s also a student passionate about his studies. This class is one he’s taken in the past and now TA’s for to bolster his resume as he finishes his major in political history. He takes it seriously, and he’s good at what he does. Johnny is attracted just as much to his mind as any other part of him.

Johnny is passionate about his own studies, excited for the challenge of even being _accepted_ to law school. Taeyong is chasing his own dream and Johnny realizes in that moment he’s been stomping all over it. He shows up to ogle his TA, but theres no real effort there to showcase what he’s really capable of. To show that he’s thoughtful, intelligent, worth more than what he brings when he shows up. 

“Sorry.” He says, mortified and trying to deal with this sudden epiphany. 

“By the way,” Taeyong continues awkwardly, “Here’s your term paper back. You could have really tried harder.”

And the paper he hands Johnny is filled with red pen marks and an ugly 68% scrawled across the top. Johnny blanches. 

“What?” He’s never received a mark this low in his _life_.

“You know the content. You have great ideas when we talk during group. Why couldn’t any of those have made it into your paper, hmm?” And Johnny’s mortification continues when he hears Taeyong’s _dismissive_ voice, realizing that the playful tone he’s heard directed at him for the majority of the semester has in fact been true disappointment, each and every time. Johnny really, _really_ understands his reaction now. Its like a hole has opened up beneath him and he feels himself being swallowed up.

“Can I re-write this? Please?” Johnny blurts, neck burning red in embarrassment.

“Johnny… that’s not really...”

“_Please_. You’re right. I didn’t put my full effort into this, and you deserve to read something that has some actual substance, _please_.” He gets it all out in a rush, and Taeyong’s making a face of displeasure. Johnny feels completely underwhelming.

“You have until thursday... email me.” Taeyong leaves, and Johnny flops down into one of the old, squeaky chairs of the study room. Two days to change Taeyong’s opinion of him.

Thirty minutes later finds Johnny in the library with an iced coffee, diligently at work. He’ll write the entire paper from scratch. He’s blueprinting the paper, focusing on the points he wants to cover. The points Taeyong had _hoped_ he’d cover the first time. He makes a little word-bubble in the corner of his notepad - Things Taeyong Might Like About Me. Because he doesn’t want to stay depressed. He wants to turn this negative energy into something more practical, more useful.

His list extends as thus:

<s>My clever quips</s> My thoughtful comments  
When I bring him coffee  
When I ask him if he’ll look over something I wrote  
When I give something my full attention  
When I’ve done the reading before study group  
My phone case (puppies)  
<s>My hands</s> No, but maybe???

Johnny’s thoughts get hazy. He isn’t sure about the last bit. He’s spent enough time over-analyzing Taeyong’s reactions but he’s more unsure than ever of what he thinks he knows about Taeyong. The younger has always been a little affectionate with him, as though Johnny was his little pet project. It isn't hard to see why Johnny’s developed a crush. But it’s Johnny’s fault that he hasn't read the situation right and has unwisely taken one gigantic step in the wrong direction. Johnny hates more than anything else to be a disappointment.

He’ll fix this.

He circles some of the notes in his word bubble, because they're things he wants to somehow infuse into his essay before it’s finished. Nothing about his hands, of course. Or puppies. It’s his full effort that will be showcased before the end of his paper and he’s committed to making it sparkling and perfect, like nothing he’s written before in his four years of university.

It's a day and a half later when he sits in front of his open laptop, cursor hovering over the send button. Nearly eight hours of straight writing and researching, followed by a four hour nap, and backed by another almost ten hours of near-obsessive editing and perfecting. He meanders between his dorm and the library, occasionally fueling himself with coffee and day-old croissants.

His laptop is hot to the touch now, having been kept on and open for most of the day. His wrists are cramping horribly and his mouth tastes like he tried to eat a sock. He hits send, and falls into a tiny pool of anxiety so bottomless that he simply allows it to wash over him. He sets his alarm for three hours from now and passes out on his bed, exhausted.

The alarm is jarring and horrible to his ears. He feels wrong when he wakes up, because it's midday and it feels like he hasn't slept at all. He’s got heartburn from falling asleep obsessing over his paper. He knows better than to let it get to him. It’s sent, after all. Out of his hands now. But the tension plucks at his frayed nerves as he hauls himself out of bed and takes a brisk shower.

He’s twenty-four, he mourns, as he drags himself across campus with a strong black coffee in his travel mug. He shouldn’t be letting a crush affect him this much. But it isn't as simple as that, he knows. What bothers him isn’t that he’s been rejected, just fantastically, and with little tact. It's more so that he’s read Taeyong, and the situation so poorly. That he was _lazy_, and showed his ass. That from an outside perspective he probably reads as _incompetent_, and even if Taeyong will never let Johnny take him out for coffee or let him kiss him under the bridge on campus, at least he’ll know Johnny is capable of more.

The study room is familiar in it’s disgusting qualities. That ever-present and sneeze-inducing old wood smell. The fluorescent lights singing a discordant hum from above. The cobwebs gathered with dust near the ancient windows at the top of the room - they’re in the basement after all, and as usual barely any natural light floods in. Johnny feels like he’s hung over.

He purposely avoids Taeyong’s gaze as he settles into a chair at the far side of the old, laquered table. He just doesn’t have the energy, and the ball is in Taeyong’s court anyway. Johnny wants to give him his space. The desperate, nervous energy is his own and not for sharing.

He opens up his laptop and nurses his coffee. Each sip spreads a small, pleasant warmth through him even as his stomach complains for food. The coffee helps but it doesn’t hit the same after layering caffeine high on top of caffeeine high without proper nourishment and sleep. He barely follows the discussion in the room, but manages to compliment a few of his classmate’s comments with additions of his own. He tries to be neutral, thoughtful, but by the time class is over he’s ready to head home to sleep. He’ll skip his next class, he doesn’t even care. 

His classmates rise to leave and Johnny feels Taeyong’s gaze on him as he slowly stretches to his full height, slinging his laptop bag over his shoulder and circling around the table.

“Stay.” Taeyong asks, as Johnny is about to leave. He halts in the doorway and turns. Taeyong is looking at him, expression unreadable. “If you don’t mind.”

Johnny doesn’t, of course. He shakes his head and stands patiently as Taeyong collects his things, carefully organizing his papers and laptop into a leather satchel. Johnny’s stomach twists a little with anxiety as he finishes off the last of his coffee.

“If you don’t have plans, will you join me down at the cafe for a bit? You look like you could use a solid meal, Johnny Seo.”

Johnny feels like butter in his hands, and dutifully follows Taeyong back out onto campus and across the quad. He’s pliant as Taeyong urges him into a worn leather couch at the cafe and waits restlessly while Taeyong orders two teas and a sandwich for Johnny. 

Stomach grumbling, Johnny first accepts the tea and sputters at the absurd amount of milk and sugar laced throughout. Sitting down on the couch opposite, Taeyong levels him with a _look_ and Johnny powers through it, licking the sweetness from his lips.

“You needed the sugar.” Taeyong comments, and starts fishing through his bag as Johnny takes a grateful bite of the sandwich. His pleased groan earns him a raised eyebrow from the younger but he ignores it as his body starts to feel a little more solid. He’s not swaying as much as he was almost thirty minutes ago, and thats a huge improvement. When he’s finished Taeyong is watching him patiently, his laptop and some papers stacked on his knees.

“I must really look awful if you’re looking at me like that.” Johnny finally comments, tucking back into the tea he’s finally starting to appreciate.

“You wouldn’t look like that if you'd put the correct amount of focus into your paper from the start.” Taeyong brandishes, but his voice is not truly unkind. Just firm. Johnny perks up at that, finally feeling a little more alive. He glances up at his TA, and Taeyong has set his laptop aside. His ringed fingers thumb at a small stack of papers as he delicately sips from his own tea. Johnny wonders if its sweet like his own. Is that how Taeyong likes his drinks? Sweet and syrupy and sticking to his teeth?

Taeying watches him over the lip of his mug, and Johnny’s eyes dart down to the papers and back up to meet Taeyong’s eyes. He craves Taeyong’s praise more than anything else right now. Besides his praise, a simple acknowledgement of the quality of the essay would go miles for Johnny’s ego right now.

“Are you doing this to hurt me?” Johnny eventually complains as the silent stretches razor-thin, lowering his mug to the coffee table between them. Taeyong’s eyes shine with mirth. “Because I assure you, I’ve been doing quite enough of that over the past couple days.”

“You haven't slept.” Taeyong comments, assessing. Johnny shakes his head.

“I have, a little.”

“What, straight-A student Johnny Seo couldn’t stay up 48 hours to make his rewrite a perfect 100%?” Taeyong teases, and Johnny sputters a bit at that. “Just to please his TA?” His voice is like honey.

“Do you _want_ me to stay up 48 hours for you?” Johnny asks, incredulous. _Because I will_ goes unspoken. Taeyong ignores his comment and throws the stapled stack of papers down on the table between them, facing Johnny. A bright 98% shines back up at him in perfect red ink, and his heart thumps against his chest.

“You spelled the word ’acquire’ incorrectly throughout.” Taeyong’s tone is matter of fact, but light. Johnny flushes at that, once again mortified.

“You still gave me a 98%.” Johnny muses, mostly to himself. Taeyong hums in agreement.

“Do you need some sleep?” Taeyong asks innocently, sipping at his tea.

Johnny doesn’t quite understand. He picks up his paper and flips through. His heart is heavy in a good way. He feels satisfied. Taeyong’s beautiful cursive is speckled throughout in the same stinging red. A _ninety eight percent_.

“Before I come over, I mean.”

And at that, Johnny sucks in a breath and looks up at him, suddenly present. Taeyong is staring at him, his neutral expression broken only by the slight curve of his lips.

“Nope.” Johnny responds, popping the ‘p’. 

-

It’s nothing like he expects, which in and of itself should be something he should expect at this point. Taeyong is demanding and complaint in equal measure, telling Johnny where to touch him even as he sighs and bucks against him helplessly.

“Fuck, kiss me-” Taeyond demands and Johnny does, licking the taste of his tea from his lips. It’s bitter, not sweet like Johnny had expected. He has Taeyong pressed into his bed and god, he seems to like that. He pulls Johnny even closer, twining their thighs and running his hands wherever he pleases.

Taeyong tries to set the pace, urging Johnny closer and licking into his mouth, but it’s Johnny who has to slow things down. Despite suffering and finally gaining Taeyong’s well-earned approval, Johnny is only human and his body is running on a single sandwich and layer upon layer of faded caffeine buzz. He’s exhausted.

“I want to taste every part of you,” he gasps, gripping Taeyong’s wandering hands between his own. “So bad.”

He pulls back to look down at Taeyong, at the bitten red of his lips and the rise and fall of his chest. He looks like a fucking wet dream and Johnny just wants to rock against him until he’s shaking apart beneath him, voice soft and reedy.

“But I need to slow us down, ‘Yong.” He’s filled with regret as he says it. “I’m dying here. Cuddle with me.”

Surprise etches itself across Taeyong’s face but he lets it wash over him only a moment before he’s pushing Johnny’s hair back from his face and nodding, leaning up to pepper soft kisses over Johnny’s cheeks.

“Yeah.” And Taeyong’s body language changes into something a little less urgent. He lets Johnny settle on the bed beside him and pull Taeyong into his arms. Warm and cozy, he fits easily against Johnny’s body. Johnny is something unexpected. Taeyong hadn’t expected it, but he has restraint, and self-preservation. _Probably_, he muses. The extent of that is yet to be seen.

Johnny must be watching the gears turn because he manhandles Taeyong in the bed beside him, flipping him over so he can spoon his smaller body and press their hips together. The ghost of Johnny’s erection presses into the crook of Taeyong’s ass and he gasps as he rocks back against it. Johnny holds him close, nosing along the back of his neck.

“Don’t misunderstand.” He murmurs, placing kisses along the skin he can reach.

“You got me going. I just want to give you my full attention. Do you feel how much I want you?” He shifts his hips and Taeyong grips onto the bed for dear life, conflicted over whether he should rut back or let Johnny sleep.

“_Yes_.” His voice is a hissed whisper. Johnny hums and his grip loosens a little as sleep drags at the back of his mind.

“When the time is right.” He states, letting a tired hand rub along Taeyong’s stomach, pushing at his hoodie. Taeyong’s body feels tuned to him but he forces himself to relax, to let the sexual tension ebb away. 

“When the time is right.” Taeyong echoes quietly, and settles back against Johnny’s chest. A new feeling buds in his chest, something bright and hopeful. 

—

Days pass in a quiet, rushed blur. They aren’t shy- they text, they flirt. They give each other mild looks under the buzz of the fluorescent lights during group and gently brush hands when Johnny hands him a coffee. At night they twine together on the couch or in bed but it always ends surprisingly innocently. They walk the lighted walkways of the quad, they talk for hours over coffee and sometimes Taeyong finds himself drifting to sleep in Johnny’s arms and the smell of him, his clothes, his bed become a strange constant on his mind. 

Johnny kisses him a bit but never gets him too riled up. In only a couple short weeks they learn each other so much more completely that Taeyong doesn’t bother to feel shame over how desperately he’d tried to open his legs for Johnny that first night. He knows now it’s impossible to know all of Johnny in only a handful of scattered shared hours. It’s worth getting to know him inside and out, even if he craves Johnny’s big hands on his body every waking moment of his day.

Johnny as he really is; soft and thoughtful and a good listener, is a version of Johnny only earned over numerous moments of careful observation. Taeyong’s starting to earn that that side of him. He’s just starting to see the full picture when he is also hit with the sudden realization that Johnny is a massive tease.

For days Taeyong praises Johnny his discipline. How much he clearly wantes to fuck Taeyong six ways to Sunday but holds back to work more on their relationship, or so Taeyong thinks. He isn’t sure, but there’s been something nagging at the back of his mind besides his own quickly dwindling patience with his tall, sweet-tempered crush. 

In the brisk spring air both of them are layered with sweaters and light jackets. Johnny wraps a thin cashmere scarf around Taeyong’s neck and pulls him along with an arm around his waist as they walk the river that intersects the campus. The soil is soft under their boots- the snow having only recently receded. 

Johnny is tall and magnificent in the setting sun and Taeyong aches for him. _Aches_. And it must show on his face because Johnny looks down at him, expression soft and knowing, and grins. Goosebumps jump up all long Taeyong’s shoulders and Johnny’s grin widens, as though he can see how Taeyong is crumbling under the full force of Johnny’s casual, gentle attention. And it hits him. It hits him hard.

It isn’t just him who goes back to his dorm at night and muffles his own moans behind his hand as he urgently thrusts into his own fist. Johnny wants him too. And while they haven’t discussed it, they both so openly want it it’s infuriating to realize they’ve waited this long. 

Further thought confirms that Johnny hasn’t done so unconsciously, he’s decided, waited. With heat rising up from under Taeyong’s scarf like a fever, and Johnny gorgeous and radiant under the half-sun like milk disappearing into coffee, Taeyong knows. He’s teasing, with every action he takes. Begging Taeyong to touch him again, with purpose.

“Oh my god, will you kiss me?” Taeyong blurts, working himself through a frustrating mental exercise as he tries to reason why Johnny would deliberately make himself an irresistibly tempting snack without taking action himself. Johnny, who Taeyong already knows from experience isn’t shy to ask for what he wants, can only be doing one thing. Which is to drive Taeyong to his absolute wits end.

They pause under the bridge that crosses the campus’s river and Johnny turns to look at him, a considering arch to his brow.

“Of course.” Johnny murmurs, eyes dropping to his lips. “But you ask that like I never give you any.” He carries only the barest pout, but a glimmer of mirth hides behind his eyes.

“You’re teasing me!” Taeyong finally whines, grabbing at the front of Johnny’s sweater and tugging. He glowers, put out.

“I’m not!” Johnny chuckles, hands coming to frame Taeyong’s neck. His thumb rubs there, affectionate.

“Then why are you doing this? You’re driving me crazy.”

Johnny hums at that.

“I’m not trying to drive you crazy… I…” he isn’t sure what to say to that, struggling. He gestures between them, oddly serious.

“I just… care about this.” he struggles again, thumbs rubbing restlessly along Taeyong’s skin. The breeze is light but brisk and goosebumps rise and fall over Taeyong’s shoulders between Johnny’s heated touch and spring’s trembling cold air.

“Even if it’s the same. I want to have earned that somehow. I want to have earned it.”

It hits harder than Taeyong expects and he’s shamed to think he widdled down Johnny’s intentions into something so shallow as simple teasing. He’s not fully wrong, though. Even if its only a little, Johnny _is_ a massive tease.

“I want to touch you so bad all the time, man. I’m just trying to exercise some patience...”

Taeying flushes, embarrassed.

“You fucking dick!” And Taeyong shoves at him with a helpless laugh.

Johnny’s eyebrows raise at his outburst, and he catches Taeyong’s fists as they bounce against his chest ineffectually.

“I’m not!” He knows Taeyong is only throwing a playful tantrum, but he uses his patient, whiny voice all the same.

“I like the way you look at me.” He carries on, earnest, as though Taeyong isn’t already waiting for the earth to swallow him up. “I was going to bring it up soon, but it seems like you kind of beat me to it.” Johnny leans down to capture his lips is a slow, thoughtful kiss. Even when Taeyong squirms, Johnny’s arms falling around his waist ground him. It’s easy to shake off the nervous energy that Johnny’s confession has settled in him.

Taeyong isn’t used to being desired so deeply, so thoughtfully.

He’s still pouty when they pull away, but Jonny’s hands sliding under his coat to press against his warm stomach have his wiggling again, gasping at the cold. Johnny runs the tips of his thumbs along the waistband of Taeyong’s jeans.

Oh… _oh_. This is that feeling, of having earned something. To be so much more sure how you got it. That Johnny looks at him with hunger, with fondness, that’s earned. It’s not by chance.

“I care about this too.” Taeyong whispers.

Johnny allows himself to be pushed with slender hands into the shadow of the bridge, their bodies sliding into the dark of the archway. The column juts out from the ground, enormous and white with aged cement. They’re hidden from the quad, but still quite visible should any hapless students decide on a secluded stroll. 

Hands work quickly at the fastening of his coat and his jeans and Johnny bucks with a gasp as Taeyong sinks to his knees in the snow and presses a hot kiss to the exposed skin below his bellybutton. 

“‘Yong!” Johnny yelps, and his hands fall to Taeyong’s shoulders for balance. His head spins with how quickly the blood relocates in his body. His eyes dart up, scanning their vicinity even as a hand falls to Taeyong’s head, fingers sliding between the silk of his hair.

Perhaps in an old life, Johnny would have done this. It would have been considered a natural outcome of his character: impulsive and reckless and obsessed with pushing the limit. While he’s seen an eager side of Taeyong before, this isn’t at all what he could have expected. And he looks right at home, eyes demurely looking up even as he pulls Johnny’s half-hard cock from his boxers and runs his fingers over it. Neither of them are like this, really. But it’s going to happen anyway, Johnny thinks.

“God - I love everything that you do.” Taeyong’s voice is sweet praise against his skin. “I want every part of you.” And it’s desire, but also something else. 

He thinks of all the times he watched Taeyong from across the table in their cramped study room. How he watched those ringed fingers tap ryhmically against the tabletop and thought about his glossy lips pressed to his own heated skin. How that had changed into different sorts of wants. How for a whole week all he’d craved was Taeyong’s praise. Now those rings are like cold ice against his cock and his mouth is hot like sin and his expression- oh, the want there. The praise, the real desire. For this and more.

“Fuck- ‘Yong…” Johnny’s eyes jump up again- there’s no one. Only the river opening up before them, a dark line in the water the shadow of the bridge, and their own boot prints in the snow. Taeyong’s lips hot on his skin redirect his focus once again, and soft like petals they slide over the head of his cock, slick from his tongue.

A groan, long and low tears itself from Johnny’s throat as Taeyong closes his lips around the head and hollows his cheeks, tongue exploring the underside of Johnny’s cock as it fills out in his mouth. Taeying looks up at him again, just the first little bit in his mouth. The sight of the entire length of his cock waiting to be swallowed by those pink lips makes Johnny’s cock swell again, twitching. Taeyong moans at the taste that spills over his tongue and shuts his eyes, taking more of Johnny into his mouth.

Taeyong has barely gotten Johnny out of his pants, and his nose disappears between the unbuttoned V of his jeans. They start a gentle rhythm and Johnny tries to swallow most of his noises through clenched teeth. If he’s silent for too long Taeyong sucks him down harder, letting Johnny prod at the back of his throat and the noises come unbidden.

“This is unexpected…” he breathes out, pushing Taeyong’s hair back from his forehead. His fingers are gentle but Taeyong moans and swallows down as much of Johnny as he can, eyes closing in bliss.

“Fuck- Do you like that?” He rocks his hips a little and Taeyong’s knees slide on the snow. He hums as he rocks forwards a bit, tongue circling over the head of Johnny’s cock. Drool collects at the corners of his mouth and pleasure coils tense in Johnny’s gut at the sight.

He pulls back slowly, and split hangs glistening like a dewy spiderweb connecting his lips to Johnny’s cock. The cold comes almost instantly, and Johnny shivers as Taeyong covers his cock with two fists.

“Fuck my mouth please, Johnny Seo. I’ve been patient. Afterwards we can talk about me meeting your parents.” He takes Johnny back into his mouth and the older balks as he’s wrestled back against the cement wall. And then it’s only heat, Taeyong swallowing him down with his pretty lips wrapped wide around Johnny’s cock as Johnny first tentatively, then more eagerly rocks into his mouth.

Johnny expects silence, perhaps the birds chatting noisily in the trees, or the ice breaking against the shore. Instead, its the lewd slick sound of Taeyong’s throat contracting around his cock, and soft whimpered encouragement from the man before him. Johnny twines his fingers into Taeyong’s hair and his mouth goes lax as he looks down the line of his body and rocks his hips. He refuses to go hard, to go fast. Because if Taeyong asks for it, he can have it but it needs to happen when Johnny can lay him bare across his bed afterwards and reward him properly.

Hands running restlessly over Johnny’s legs, Taeyong takes him to the root and Johnny _keens_, bending over his body as the younger swallows around him. His cock jumps, leaking precome and Taeyong has exactly two more thrusts as warning before Johnny is whimpering and spilling into his mouth. It’s like his nerves are singing, and he repeats Taeyong’s name like a prayer with each pulse of come across Taeyong’s tongue. He only shakily pulls back when Taeyong’s continued attention causes his hips to jerk from oversensitivity.

Johnny slumps into the snow in front of him and gathers Taeyong close.

“Fuck… fuck” He’s breathless as he searches out Taeyong’s lips. They’re slick with spit and spend and Taeyong moans when Johnny licks into his mouth, searching for his own taste. His throat clicks as he swallows and he moans weakly when Johnny brushes his hair from his face, touch tender.

“I’m taking you home.” Johnny murmurs, zipping himself back up and pulling Taeyong to his feet.

“Will you let me take care of you?” Johnny’s voice is deep and comforting and Taeyong nods into his collar, breathing in the scent of him. He’s hard in his own jeans, uncomfortably so. But crushed to Johnny’s body, there’s the promise of being cared for. Of feeling Johnny’s full attention.

“I’m really glad you let me re-write my paper.” Johnny murmurs into his hair, hands falling under his coat. He dots kisses against Taeyong’s temple before pulling back to stare into his eyes. Earnest, genuine. Taeyong wants him so bad. He’s embarassed by how badly he wants him. Wonders if Johnny will let him help with his assignments for other classes. So his boyfriend can become a successful lawyer and be the breadwinner when they get married.

“Are we dating?” Taeyong asks as Johnny tucks him against his side and starts walking them back up to the quad. He’s eager to get Taeyong back to his dorm.

“You’re going to have a genuinely difficult time shaking me at this point.” Johnny comments, tone sage. Taeyong hums and threads his fingers with the taller.

“Take me to a movie after dinner?” He asks, swinging their arms. Johnny squeezes his hand, heart light.

“I’ll take you anywhere.” Johnny promises as he silently commits to put as much effort into this one special thing he’s earned for as long as Taeyong will let him. As much or more than two sleepless days. Countless sleepless nights if it means he gets to keep what he’s earned. This easy love, Taeyong’s weight at his side. This person who will always push him to be his best, most brightest self.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for all the love and support from those who helped me through the sticky bits of this fic. I am not a thousand percent satisfied with it, but after some suggestions from my lovely wife and fellow nctzens I am much more comfortable posting it! Thanks for the love~
> 
> twt  
CC


End file.
